


handle with care

by batterycityradiotower



Category: My Chemical Romance
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Apocalypse, Angst, Blood and Violence, Friends to Lovers, Gangs, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injury Recovery, Kidnapping, M/M, background ger-z, cyborg!frank too, cyborg!ray, medic!ray, post-apocalyptic life, questionable medical procedures, scavenger!mikey
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-08 02:56:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26998564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/batterycityradiotower/pseuds/batterycityradiotower
Summary: a life-or-death situation makes ray realize he can't live without mikey. the rest he has to figure out on his own.or: an angsty, wandering, self-indulgent rikey oneshot that was meant to be much much shorter
Relationships: Ray Toro/Mikey Way
Comments: 5
Kudos: 17





	handle with care

**Author's Note:**

> 1: thank u crow so!!!! so!!!! much!!! for letting me work ur nickname for mikey into this story!!! ❤❤❤ ilysm
> 
> 2:: trigger warning for some semi graphic descriptions of injury!! i tried to keep those parts brief but they're still there so !!! approach with caution ok thank u

"you sure you're good to do that by yourself?"

mikey sighs. "'course i'm sure."

"alright," ray says, kneeling down beside mikey where he's working, "i'm right here if you need me."

he seems to have it under control, though. ray always enjoys watching him work, even if it's just a regular tune-up. mikey's got this energy of concentration about him when it comes to mechanics, and it's fascinating to watch him doing even simple things with that precision and deftness he carries around with him.

ray leans on the worktable and fidgets more than usual, that afternoon. he sits down beside mikey when he decides it's best not to loom over him, situating himself so he can watch him closely. mikey never seems to mind his observations.

"so... are you really okay?" ray asks. "you've seemed a little mad today."

it takes a moment, but mikey sighs and his hands pause on the bolts. "i was practicing on the outrun, and there were a load of people there. gerard kept saying _'run, bunny, run'_. i guess he was trying to get them to laugh or something."

ray has to hold back a laugh. he can't help but find it adorable how much mikey hates the nickname.

"i call you bunny."

"it's different," he insists, feeling around for the monkey wrench until ray hands it to him, "he says it 'cause he thinks i'm still just a baby."

"thought it was because of how you jump the barricades."

mikey rolls his eyes. "no, he's just a jerk."

"that's not news." ray can't help but notice how his soft blonde hair is pushed back, brow furrowed in concentration. he's trying to remember something, and ray has a feeling he knows what. "they go on before the bolt, mikes."

"i know."

ray laughs softly. he knows mikey's often intent on sorting things out by himself, and he's perfectly alright with standing by and watching. he finds himself sneaking glances at mikey's eyes. they're a soft mossy-green color, and he's always drawn to the little brown splotch in his right iris. it's such a small thing, and he reckons most people don't even notice.

"put these on," ray says, reminded that mikey's not wearing his goggles right now, "don't want anything falling in your eyes."

mikey sighs and takes them from him, slipping them on and continuing with his work.

"and what about your little bike contraption? you haven't said much about it lately."

"on hold for now."

"on hold?"

"yeah. just wanna get some more bolts for security, y'know? but we haven't hit a site with many of those recently, and they're usually pretty expensive."

ray just sighs. he wishes that mechanic experimentation wasn't considered a luxury, rather than a necessity. hell, ray wouldn't be able to walk without it. his bionic leg was easily his most complicated and mercurial project. even with his handbooks and acquired studies it took ages for him to make the right modifications. months of trying (and failing) new prosthetic ideas led him here, to a time where he can walk again. mikey's never let him hear the end of it; constantly telling people how talented he is, how he can fix anything and everything.

ray's never boasted about his abilities with mechanics. it's a passion of his and he always tries to find time for it, not something he wants to turn into a competition... but mikey's praise does make it more rewarding, in a way.

"here-" ray gently takes the other washer from mikey's hand, and starts pushing it on. "your brother probably wants you to get back."

"maybe i'm busy," mikey retorts, pushing ray's hand out of the way to continue screwing on the bolt himself, "maybe i like being here."

ray gives him a gentle smile. "maybe you can come back later and finish up. c'mon, the car's not going anywhere, and it's prime daylight right now. i think lynz and james said something about another hunt?"

"yeah." there's something in mikey's voice that sounds like an ache. he's hardly ever saddened by an opportunity to go scavenging, getting a chance to stretch his legs and leave camp, but when he is upset, he wants to stay with ray.

ray gets it. he's been sort of a mentor to him, at least in mechanics, and it's like a creative outlet for mikey. were circumstances different, ray would stay with him all day and well into the night, just to work together.

mikey scuffles out from under the car, getting to his feet and dusting himself off.

"...did you clean my jacket?"

"oh. yeah, i just-" ray swallows. "just noticed it was kinda dirty and had a rip in the sleeve, so..."

he trails off, noticing how mikey's smiling fondly as he puts it on. he walks over to ray, giving him a quick half-hug - one he wishes lasted longer.

"hey, where are you headed?"

"going back to that site i told you about," he says, grabbing his duffel off the ground, "taking linds and james with me, so don't worry."

"i'll have to." he always has to. "don't forget about the alert if you get into trouble."

mikey rolls his eyes again. "i won't."

* * * * * * *

they first saw the abandoned site while biking into camp one day, after mikey had insisted on taking a different path. it's a small house, with the windows painted black and the front door leaning against the wall like a makeshift barricade. he's not sure what went down here, but clearly nobody occupied it anymore, so he thinks it's fair to assume the owners are dead.

what catches mikey's attention most is the new graffiti on the outside.

 _"he will save you,"_ mikey reads aloud, "who the hell is _"he"?"_

"dunno, but hope he has med kits," lynz says, kicking some debris aside so she can enter the house.

this little hovel seems promising; plenty of potential supplies, and most of them aren't yet expired. mikey nearly trips over something on the floor, however - a rusty metal door. upon further inspection, it seems like it's built into the floor, but it's rusted shut so tightly he can't open it alone.

"lynz, here-" mikey calls, "i can't lift it."

lynz comes over and grabs the handle with him, leveraging her weight against it while mikey pulls up, and it makes a horrible sound as it creaks open. once it is, mikey can tell it's opened up a storage area. most of it's moldy and unusable, but there's a few first aid kits that appear untouched.

"i'm sure ray would appreciate these," lynz remarks, trying to fit them into her duffel.

"why d'you think nobody's raided this place yet?" james asks, walking in with a rusty container of something, "i mean, it probably hasn't been lived in for months."

"yeah," lynz laughs, "watchdogs supposedly keep an eye on shit like this, but i guess that's just another rumor."

mikey doesn't like the silence around the place anymore. they're right, it's weird that one of the largest roving gangs somehow wouldn't know about this. he shoves what he can fit into his bag, and leaves the rest.

"c'mon."

"mikey, there's two more rooms."

he shakes his head quickly, trying to indicate urgency. "i don't like it. it's not right."

lynz seems to pick up on it and grabs her duffel as well, motioning at james to follow. "leave the rest of the shit, just grab what you can carry."

_it's not right._

mikey pushes the broken door aside again, and hears a soft, barely audible whirring in the distance. his heart drops to his stomach when he realizes what the sound is.

"go!"

he sprints towards the bikes, tailed by lynz and james, but they're barely within a few yards of them before mikey feels something fly past his head and hit the tree beside him.

"fucking dogs!" james yells, being dragged along by lynz.

he hears gunshots way too close beside him, and realizes lynz's firing back, swinging her gun over her shoulder at every chance to hit one of them. she was always a good shot.

mikey hears the approaching sound of bikes getting louder, and then another spray of gunshots in their direction. a faint, yet sharp pain breaches his panic and tells him he's been shot, but it's not enough to keep him from trying to get on his bike - and fucking hell the damn thing won't kick into gear.

"you picked one hell of a time to do this-" mikey thinks, then another shot rings out and sends him crashing to the ground.

it fucking _hurts,_ it hurts way more than mikey remembered it hurting last time he was shot. he can't even see where lynz and james are, and maybe it's the tears welling up in his eyes. there's no way they could've got them, right? they were ahead of mikey, and weren't nearly close enough-

he's fumbling with the latch on his holster when the first bikes come to a halt a few yards away. then another set of bikes alongside a rusty old trans-am, covered in paint and graffiti. why the hell are they stopping?

one of the doors creaks open and he hears a voice.

"you even draw that gun and you'll die right here."

mikey freezes, letting his hand fall away from the holster. there's two people getting out of the car and heading towards james and lynz's bikes, and mikey's heart is going ballistic just thinking about what might have happened.

another couple of guys - watchdogs, he's assuming - are already stalking towards him to do god-knows-what. mikey's heard the stories, heard the rumors about what they do to dissenters. mikey doesn't get scared, though. he's not scared.

not for himself, anyway.

* * * * * * *

"put on your fucking mask." lynz's pulling her own on, as she and james trek through the muddy swampy area behind the site. "i don't remember if this area is charted or not. better safe than sick."

james puts on his own mask, following quickly behind her as they trudge through the muck. this place was once a beautiful river, lynz was told, though in its current state it couldn't be told apart from any other contaminated water source. the brownish grey water isn't suitable for drinking, or even bathing in, depending on the toxicity levels.

"gerard's gonna kill us," james says thickly through his mask.

"yeah? if he thinks we could stave off a group of watchdogs on our own, he's stupider than i thought."

"you're dating him."

"so i know firsthand. help me over this," she says, gesturing at the large rotten tree blocking their way, "shouldn't be too much further."

james locks his hands together, letting her place her boot firmly in them before boosting her up and onto the tree. "and -- what did they want mikey for?"

"what d'you think, dewees?"

lynz reaches down, letting james grab ahold of her arm before she drags him up with her. times like these, she's grateful she's been benching upwards of a hundred pounds; it makes dragging along her friends much easier.

"info?"

"of course. he's brother to the head of the camp. if they wanted him dead, he'd have been dead when we left him."

lynz tumbles a little less gracefully down the backside of the tree, followed again by james, and sure enough, the campsite's visible in the distance.

"doesn't mean they won't torture him," james adds unhelpfully, "burning, bleaching, skinning. i've heard the shit they do, linds."

"better hurry up, then."

* * * * * * *

mikey's trying to listen in on what the dogs are saying, but they're just too far for him to catch much of it. they didn't say much while tying him up or leaving him in the room, but mikey definitely hears more voices than before.

the door opens quickly and the voices cut off as someone enters. he looks familiar, but only in ways that have been described to mikey before. he's never seen him in person, but he knows he's heard of him... it has to be him, right?

he wasn't even certain "ghoul" was real, or if he was yet another rumored member of the watchdogs. hell, there was a time when people thought gerard was working for them. but there he is.

the guy smiles at him, then turns away to check the arrangement of knives on a table nearby. an intimidation tactic - mikey's seen it before, and he's not impressed. the guy doesn't seem very chatty either, and maybe that's a good thing.

through the darkness, mikey catches a glimpse of ghoul taking his jacket off... even in the shitty lighting, he knows what a bionic prosthetic looks like. his entire left arm has the appearance of blackened steel, and it extends all the way up his shoulder and neck. mikey doesn't have a clue what happened, but it must've been bad.

"one of my friends is a cyborg, too, y'know."

"no shit."

"yeah... he's fucking sick at mechanics. better than me," he says, trying to keep ghoul's interest, "they told him he wouldn't walk again, so he fixed up his own leg."

"sounds better than being stuck in a wheelchair."

"for sure, maybe."

ghoul stays quiet for a long moment, longer than mikey is comfortable with. he kneels down beside him, clearly not the kind of person mikey can chat up.

"so, mikey, yeah?" he nods. "d'you feel like sharing anything about your camp's plans to move north? 'cause now's your opportunity."

mikey stares blankly. _"north?"_

"yeah, like the direction on the map."

he squints at ghoul in the strange semi-darkness. "we don't have any plans to go north."

the cyborg just looks at him, unwavering. "we've gotten intel recently that your incompetent, shithead brother is trying to move into our territory. you're saying that's false?"

"yes-" mikey almost laughs. "what the fuck- there's _nothing_ up north! it's all contaminated to shit, and no offense, but it's crawling with your kind."

ghoul keeps eyeing him and then he looks back to his guards. mikey wants nothing more than to send an alert to ray right about now, but with his hands tied behind him it's harder than he'd anticipated.

"maybe there's room to convince you."

* * * * * * *

blurry vision grants mikey enough detail to see his own blood on the floor, tracked across the room. he swallows hard and pulls at the ropes still binding his wrists - whoever tied them did too good of a job.

there's a loud ringing in his head like church bells, but not nearly loud enough to drown out the pain he's in. he doesn't know how long it's been; he's lost track of time somewhere in here. maybe it got knocked out of him last time ghoul kicked him in the face.

_"tell tucker to get the vans ready."_

mikey barely registers the words, so faint it's like they're being spoken through a wall... but he's sure ghoul is nearby.

someone - evan, ghoul called him? - approaches him quickly and drags him up from where he collapsed on the floor. mikey tries to keep quiet but it _hurts like hell_ and he knows something's tearing where ghoul started slashing him up.

"fuck-"

evan starts cutting the ropes around his wrists. "don't try anything."

in all fairness, mikey doesn't think he _could_ even if he tried.

another moment and evan's grabbing him by his shoulders in the worst way and pulling him to his feet fast enough to make his vision black out again. he looks down and evan's quickly zip-tying his hands together. mikey's got no idea what exactly they want him to do, or where he's being taken, but he doesn't imagine it has a good outcome.

 _"hey-"_ he pulls him by the collar. "c'mon, get moving."

he's being pulled down a dark hallway faster than he can think about it, and then outside - to where a few familiar vehicles are waiting. evan and the dogs load him up into the back of a pickup truck and as the engine starts, mikey starts feeling the gravity of his situation.

ray would always tease about mikey's deadly interest things, _"curiosity killed the cat, and so on,"_ and he'd scold him when he'd get back. never angry, but always disappointed in his lack of self-preservation.

"you wanna take him under?"

"safest bet, unless you've got a better idea."

 _under?_ mikey doesn't know of anything to go under nearby... unless they were talking about going underground? he's heard rumors about watchdogs and their secret camps; it wouldn't be a impossible.

mikey can feel himself dipping towards sleep, but he's shaken out of it by a harsh slap across his face. "wake up, kiddo."

the drive is mostly silent, evan's gaze unnervingly fixed on mikey as they keep moving. he only looks away when something stirs in the distance. there's maybe half a second before a loud _crack!_ misses mikey's head by a few inches.

"shit!"

mikey ducks his head, trying to find the source of the shots.

it's fucking dark and he can just make out the brief, skirting shapes of trucks in the distance. he ducks lower as another shot rings out way too close to his head. evan's just as confused as he is, but much better armed for the situation.

and then there it is. evan turns away from mikey to load his gun, the truck slows for just a moment - just long enough for mikey to jump the back of the truck, hit the ground and start running.

mikey's had to run for his life before, and it's always accompanied by the brutal stinging of adrenaline in his chest. that only briefly drowns out the pain, but it's enough to get him back into the woods, hearing engines and barking dogs behind him.

 _"you should always trust your first instict, especially if you don't have time for a second one,"_ gerard had said, years ago, after something mikey can't even recall.

mikey's second instinct is that he definitely can't outrun wild dogs. he takes a chance and jumps over the edge of the path and into the pitch-black river.

it fucking hurts and he's up to his chest in murky water, but hides in a small alcove beneath the path. he hears the dogs rushing over to the edge above him, barking - fucking snarling and he knows they can smell him - then, one takes off in a different direction, followed by the others.

the engines take a similar path, and mikey's practically holding his breath until he hears them pass. he looks around, not even recognizing the place he's in. it looks vaguely familiar, but also like every other swamp around here.

he wades through the water cautiously, not even knowing if this area's been charted for spores. he grabs his gas mask, pulling it on and making his way to the other side of the murky water. mikey drags himself up and out before he sinks into the mud. this is going to royally fuck up his leg; especially if he can't find his way back soon.

where the hell were they even taking him? ghoul had already decided he didn't know anything. would he be held hostage or killed outright?

mikey can save his questions for later. right now, he has to drag himself back to his feet and get moving, before ghoul and his damn dogs find him again.

* * * * * * *

"they don't give a shit about any of us!"

lynz's voice rings out through the camp, even though she and gerard are secluded in one of the tents. ray's not certain how long they've been arguing, but it started after she and james got back.

"does anyone?"

"y'know what? pull the stick out of your ass."

_"what?"_

"your brother's probably getting beaten to shit, and questioned about what you've got going on," she snaps, "who even knows how long he'll be alive? watchdogs aren't known for their niceties."

"stop it."

"maybe if you hadn't planned a little excursion, they wouldn't be so determined to question him."

"i think you're underestimating how smart mikey is."

"you're underestimating what they're willing to do."

he hears a frustrated huff come from lynz, before she leaves the tent and storms past him. he waits, and doesn't see any movement within the tent anymore. gerard's probably sat down thinking in there.

ray picks up his bag and walks intently towards the barricade surrounding the camp. he tries to look purposeful, like he's gotten orders to do something. nobody usually questions him anyway.

a couple of gunners step aside, allowing him to head towards his bike. he kicks it into gear, driving off as quickly as it'll take him.

he tries to recall how mikey had described the trap site to him... not too far beyond their barricades, but just far enough that they couldn't possibly outrun the watchdogs once they came. a building that looks like an old, rusty shed, covered in graffiti. shouldn't be too difficult to spot out here.

he follows the bike tracks in the direction mikey would've gone, noticing a few tracks deviating from the main path. surely mikey, james, and lynz's bikes. he speeds up, following them through a small forest area, then past a river. ray finds himself wondering how far exactly they must have gone, when he sees the glint of a metal roof in the distance.

he squints until he gets nearer, and it becomes more obvious - that's the place mikey was talking about.

ray drives up the path, coming to a halt just in front of the place. it's vacant; not a soul is breathing around here, it's so quiet.

_"he will save you."_

ray hears something beep loudly from his backpack, and fumbles with it in surprise.

there's _no way,_ no way that was what he thought it was.

he pulls out the source of the beeping - it's the remote map he'd set to mikey's emergency alert. it's zoomed in on the area the alert went off, and ray zooms it out as far as he can. he doesn't recognize the place right away, but it's off the marsh somewhere.

he knows gerard will kill him if he runs off. he's probably already pissed he's gone back to the site, but he knows mikey. ray knows he'd never send out the alert unless he was in a life-or-death situation, which is exactly what ray had made it for.

he sets it to hotter-colder signaling, telling him how far away he is from mikey's alert. it beeps slowly, several seconds between each sound.

he's far.

* * * * * * *

_"it wouldn't hurt to sleep."_

mikey's mind keeps repeating the thought, and he keeps pushing it away. it's the blood loss, he knows it is. 

his body keeps telling him to rest, lie down, close his eyes, and it's like fighting a losing battle resisting those urges. he doesn't know how much blood he's lost, but it's enough to make him too dizzy to stand.

he feels like he can barely breathe and wants to tear off the gas mask, but he knows he'd be exposing his lungs to lethal amounts of spores. what would be the fucking point in signaling ray if he just killed himself right here?

god, he just wants him. he wants ray to do what he always does; sweeping mikey out of danger, pulling him out of harm's way and taking him home.

he'd scold him for being so reckless, for nearly getting himself killed so many times in just a day... but in that way that ray does. the way he scolds him for foolish behavior, and slips in a sentiment of love beneath it.

mikey laughs softly, thinking about it. how ray always ends up turning the blame around and saying it's his fault instead, that he should've protected mikey, that he should've kept him safe and tucked away somewhere. ray probably thinks he can't see through it.

he rests his head against the wall, his eyes slipping closed just a bit. he absently notices it's been getting darker outside.

_"just a little while."_

he can't find the strength in him to argue anymore.

* * * * * * *

ray can't take his bike any further.

it gets left near the end of the path, before ray starts moving on his own. it feels more lonely without his bike for some reason - less protection? maybe it just reminds him of someone.

"fuck's sake-" he groans, feeling his bionic leg catch and grind as he tries to trudge through the swampy muck. he slams the joint back into place, before climbing up to a safer area. he hears the slow, steady beeping from his spore meter quickly start escalating as he moves further in the direction of mikey's signal.

he should never have encouraged him. he shouldn't have let him run off, even with lynz and james. he knows mikey, and he knows how little he cares about himself, about keeping himself safe... and so, that job falls to ray.

his concentration is broken by the loud, persistent beeping of his radio. he pulls it out, switching it on.

 _"where the hell are you?"_ gerard snaps, loud enough to make the radio crackle.

"mikey's missing."

_"i know he's fucking missing, where are you?"_

"looking for him," ray says, trying to keep his voice down, "he sent out an alert a while ago... he wouldn't do that if it wasn't an emergency."

_"how close?"_

ray looks down at his reader. "nearby, i think? i'm getting closer, i know that. he couldn't have gotten far, gee, even with the-"

_"are you alright?"_

"huh?"

 _"are you alright?"_ gee asks sharply, _"i mean... fuck, you're our head medic, you realize that right?"_

"linds can help if anything happens-"

gerard sighs loudly. _"i want you back."_

"can't. i'm sorry."

he can't keep talking to gerard without risking drawing more attention to himself. he doesn't even know if there are still watchdogs around or not, and this is unsafe enough as it is. ray cuts off gerard's voice and switches off his radio.

the pathway gets narrower and precarious, till he reaches a particularly dodgy bit. he has to scuttle down the side of some rocks, trying to avoid the water as much as he can; it's so dark and murky, impossible to see anything in it.

the spore meter crackles loudly again as he moves along the bank.

 _"shut up._ i get it, it's not safe here."

god, of all the places mikey could end up, he chose here? he couldn't have hidden himself anywhere else?

ray notices a disturbance at the water's edge; broken branches hanging, blood pooled in heavy bootprints making a sloppy path through the bushes. it's his best bet, and it's in the right direction.

he follows the footsteps as far as they'll go, till he sees a building in the distance. it looks like an old safehouse, the rusted door hanging ajar just enough for him to push his way inside. the place is full of spores and his meter is going crazy - ray's worried to even touch anything.

it's hard to see anything inside even with a flashlight - like a pit that swallows up light as soon as it touches it. he rounds a corner, and quickly notices a figure slumped over against the far wall, holding a mask to their face.

"mikey."

ray rushes over and practically drops to his knees beside him, holding his head in his hands. he can't even tell if mikey's breathing at first - and then he sees the inside of his mask fogging up slightly. there's a chance.

his muscle memory takes over and he starts checking him, gently feeling for any critical injuries, anything that could kill him right away.

mikey opens his eyes groggily. "ray?"

"yeah... yeah, it's me, bunny."

"you came looking for me?"

"'course i did. i'll always look for you," ray says softly, "in this life, in every life after this, i'll look for you."

he notices mikey's freezing cold, probably from the chilled night air whipping around outside. he takes off his jacket and helps him put it on, noticing how mikey's left arm needs more assistance. ray motions for him to grab onto his shoulders, putting his arms around mikey and dragging him up to his feet.

he slumps against his chest, making ray realize he's hurt bad enough that he can't support himself.

 _"whoa-_ hey, c'mon, buddy." ray props him up so that he can wrap an arm around him, trying to support his injured side. "c'mon, we've gotta go."

honestly, ray couldn't give less of a shit about the watchdogs anymore. it's the way mikey's breathing and clinging to him that fills him with urgency. 

"it was smart of you to hide," ray pants, trying to support mikey as he walks him through the wet, marshy ground, "but you couldn't find a non-toxic zone?"

"th... thought they wouldn't wanna follow me here." he sounds horrible. "the watchdogs, or the others..."

_"others?"_

"yeah, the ones that-" he swallows. "that started shooting."

ray goes quiet, just focusing on getting mikey back up to the path he'd taken. who the hell would even do that? he hates to even think about the possibility of another gang, one that thinks they're capable of taking out watchdogs on their own... fuck.

* * * * * * *

arriving at camp again is just a blur in ray's mind. adrenaline meddled with his short-term memory, he thinks, because it feels like as soon as he's pulling up outside the barricades, gerard's frantically checking on mikey, lynz and james hurrying over to do the same.

ray rarely sees gerard in a panic, but he's in one now. lynz moves to check ray and he just shrugs her off; he's not the one he's worried about.

"here- help me get him inside," gerard says quickly, levering mikey's weight with lynz's help as they walk him in to the medical tents.

ray follows, only slightly aware of james prattling on about _"you need help"_ and _"is that your blood?"_ he pushes past him, past gerard and lynz as they settle mikey onto one of the medic cots. muscle memory does most of the work, telling him what to grab, what he needs to stop the bleeding, stop infection-

"gerard and james need to leave."

he hears lynz pushing them out of the tent, brief arguments from gerard, but that's not what's important.

he's sure gerard will find time to be furious with him later for leaving camp without telling anyone, for risking his life trying to find mikey alone - but right now all he wants to do is make sure mikey doesn't die here.

"hey, mikes, it's okay," he says, his tone much softer as he sits beside him, "'s gonna be alright, trust me."

lynz helps him get his jacket off, and when ray sees the lacerations all across his stomach and chest, he feels like his heart stops. they're deep and ragged, and his shirt is completely soaked in blood.

ray tries to keep his head on straight as he undresses him and sees more of what ghoul did to him. if it wasn't him, it was someone close; he's aware of ghoul's fondness for knives. he patches him up carefully, disinfecting everything and dressing his wounds in the cleanest bandages he can find.

"hey, mikes, don't sleep yet," he says, trying to keep his voice even.

lynz dumps the bloody water and pours more in the washbowl, cleaning off used tools with alcohol. she feels his pulse while ray's removing the bullet lodged in his leg. luckily, the other one had only grazed it and was fairly easy to bandage, but this would be painful.

"alright- hold him, please," he says, because ray knows he can't bring himself to do it.

he uses a pair of thin pliers to grab the bullet, trying not to damage the wound too much as he pulls it out. mikey groans loudly, the obvious pain he's in pushing ray to the verge of tears. he knows it'll be over quickly, but mikey doesn't.

lynz holds him still while ray pulls it from the wound, dropping it along with the pliers once it's free. he pours disinfectant in the bullet hole, hearing mikey damn near scream at the burn.

"mikes, _it's okay-"_ lynz hushes, stopping to pet his hair for a moment, "it's alright, the worst is over... see, it's okay."

ray packs the wound and wraps it in bandages, trying to keep himself steady. he makes sure that the bleeding is tapering off, then checks again, and has to stop himself from doing it a third time.

"he seems stable for now," ray murmurs, getting up to dig around in the medicine box, "just wanna get him something to help."

"i'll go tell gerard," lynz says, and he hears the tent flaps being pushed aside as she leaves.

ray finds a suitable form of painkillers from the box, and some antibiotics, holding mikey up a bit to help him swallow them. he wishes he had something stronger, maybe morphine or oxycodone to help with the pain, but they haven't been able to get any in months. 

he kneels beside mikey again, letting him lie back down and brushing his damp hair out of his face. he looks less like death than before.

"i'll want you to drink some more water," he says softly, trying to mask the tremble in his voice, "but you should rest for now."

ray covers him with one of the thin blankets from the cupboard, making sure he's safely tucked in. gerard would always tease him about his tendency to fret over mikey like a mother hen, but he's sure it can be excused at the moment.

"stay with me?" he asks, touching the side of his cot, "just... want you nearby."

ray complies quickly and sits down beside him. his breathing seems to have evened out, and he's fairly alert. "what made you run?"

mikey shrugs gingerly, the movement reminding him how much he's hurt.

"i was scared," he says quietly, as if he's ashamed of it, "scared 'cause i didn't think i'd come back."

"i don't think the universe would allow it," ray teases, "we're practically fused together, and you've still got that bike to finish."

"...and you said you'd always look for me."

ray feels his cheeks heating up at the mention of it. he knew he'd said too much. "of course, mikes."

"saying and doing are different... you really did, even though nobody else wanted you to."

he shrugs shyly. he doesn't know what else to say, so he places his hand on top of mikey's. his hands are warm, and they feel like they're just the right size to slot into his own perfectly. maybe ray's imagining it.

"oh- i had a suprise for you."

"you did?"

"well... i managed to get you some more bolts for that project of yours. they're not all the same size, but i'm sure you can work something out with them. the potential's all there-" ray hopelessly trails off again, when mikey's hand closes around his wrist. not imposingly, just a gentle touch that tells him _"it's okay"_.

ray feels like mikey's gaze is constricting his lungs; every moment those eyes are on him is another moment he feels himself slipping, and a greedy part of his mind wants to think mikey's feeling the same.

"y'know, while you were gone, mikes? i think that's the only time i've really felt scared." ray realizes he's been absent-mindedly stroking mikey's hand, and that mikey hasn't said a word about it. "i mean, i've felt scared before, but not like that... not when i thought i wouldn't see you again."

ray notices mikey's delayed response and his heart rate picks up, worry taking over and making him think he's over-stepped.

"i was worried too," he says finally, and ray's not sure if it's his imagination again but mikey touches his arm, skin seeking skin. his fingers just barely slide up the sleeve of his jacket, over the beaded bracelet he gave him, and there goes his fluttering heart again...

"i-- i think... you were right, i didn't think it through, and i should've been more careful but i was more worried i'd never-"

"hey."

ray quickly turns to gerard, who he didn't even hear walking in, or pushing the tent flaps aside. he quickly withdraws his hand from mikey's and stands up, which is more painful than any injury.

"how is he?" gerard asks ray, instead of asking mikey, who's clearly conscious on his cot.

"i'm fine."

"he can barely move his left arm right now, but it doesn't look broken, or like any ligaments are torn," ray assures him, "he just needs bedrest and fluids while it heals."

gerard huffs a laugh. "yeah, try and tell him he needs bedrest."

ray smiles just a bit. mikey's never obeyed doctors' orders, and rarely thinks about what's best for himself, but he's hopeful he might listen just this once.

"just gave him antibiotics, and we'll see how well his body keeps it down, yeah?"

gerard nods, walking over and sitting on the edge of mikey's cot, the way ray had been only moments ago. "you heard him, no active duty. i see you outside camp grounds and i'll shoot you."

* * * * * * *

ray spends most of the next couple days worrying himself sick.

he doesn't want to bother mikey, and lynz already told him he was doing alright, just tired and resting. she advises him to check on him later, and he agrees, even though it feels like every moment he's not with him hurts.

he just wants to keep him safe and nearby, wants to be there in case anything goes wrong, in case he gets sick, or something's not healing right. ray tries to ignore the nagging thought that he might just be looking for an excuse to see him again.

he doesn't eat; he doesn't think he can stomach anything with how worried he is. instead, he takes a walk around the grounds. he thinks about bringing mikey some of his books, maybe reading to him while he gets better. maybe he'd seem too needy, though... he then considers bringing mikey some of those flowers he likes from across the marsh; the yellow and pink ones that smell like honey. but maybe that'd seem too sappy.

ray sighs, taking a long look at the sunset-painted sky before heading back. he stops by the medical tent briefly to get a med kit for mikey, then slipping away towards his room.

he's walking up the path to the storage sheds when he hears familiar footsteps coming up behind him. he's not sure what gerard wants, but he makes a point of continuing to walk towards mikey's room.

"hey- glad i caught you," gerard says, walking alongside him, "can you visit mikey?"

"did something happen?"

"no, no-- he's just been asking for you. and i figured he'll need his bandages changed anyways, so..."

ray nods, trying not to get too excited that mikey was asking for him. "is he doing better?"

"a little, i guess," gerard says with a sigh, "lynz practically has to carry him around, though. so, can you check on him?"

ray nods again, and brushes past him quickly.

"tell him to stay in bed!" he calls, "maybe he'll listen to _you_ instead."

"will do," he calls back, already hurrying in the direction of mikey's room.

it's in a small building that could be mistaken for a garage, and most of it is used for storage, but the room in the back is usually occupied by mikey and his many projects. he makes his way there quickly, and finds lynz right outside his room.

"hey. gerard already helped him wash up earlier, he should be okay for any redressings."

ray's grateful for that, since he's certain he'd find some way to stumble and make it awkward, even being as professional as possible. "okay... thanks, linds."

lynz pats his shoulder gently. "i'll leave you to it."

she leaves and ray knocks softly before opening mikey's door. he's lying in bed, still undressed but mostly covered with a blanket. he looks exhausted but there's more color to his skin than yesterday.

"hey, mikes-" _i missed you i missed you i missed you_ "did you sleep?"

mikey shrugs a little. "did _you?"_

"yeah, a bit."

truth be told, ray hardly slept at all that night. he could barely close his eyes before he worried himself over mikey all over again. lynz had said she'd keep an eye on him, and everyone knew where to check for him, but none of that could settle the unrest in his stomach.

"i'm just gonna check your bandages and see if any of them need to be changed."

mikey nods, smiling a little as ray sits down beside him and starts checking him. he's gentle as he can be, careful not to disturb him too much in case movement is proving more painful.

"i don't think they should," mikey says softly, "could probably go another day or so."

ray nods. "you're right, i think. but i need to check the ones on your shoulder."

he motions for mikey to move closer, and he carefully pulls him into a sitting position, mikey hissing when he's fully sat up.

"sorry-" _for everything._ "just let me see, then you can lay back down."

mikey leans into his chest, resting his head on his shoulder as ray checks him. he seems alright for the time being, but mikey doesn't move to lie down again. he just presses his forehead against ray's shoulder in the most pleading way, wordlessly asking him to be held.

ray understands. he's been fucking terrified and alone, and god knows what else they did to him, and so ray maneuvers his arms around him so he can rub his back. it's the closest thing to hugging mikey he's gotten in the past few days.

"nobody else here would do this for me, y'know."

"do what?"

"take care of me," he says, a tinge of sadness in his voice, "not the way you do, anyway."

"what's so different?"

mikey shakes his head a little. "you're always checking on me, making sure i'm okay, patching me up when i get hurt... you worry yourself sick over me."

"you're worth worrying over... worth taking care of."

"it's hard work."

"maybe for anyone else." ray rubs gently at the space between his shoulders, not yet daring to move lower. "you should know by now that it helps me too, not just you."

mikey goes quiet again, and ray tries to steady his hands as much as possible before moving down. he's careful over bruised skin, holding one hand on mikey's chest... to keep him steady? keep him close?

"you shouldn't be afraid to touch me."

ray swallows hard, his thoughts faltering for a moment. "i'm not."

"yeah, you are. you're not gonna hurt me."

ray just murmurs a small "okay" and nudges him, helping him lie on his back so he can gently massage the sore area near mikey's ribs.

his eyes rake over his chest, then down to his toned stomach and hips. ray always liked how his muscles flex just a bit when he breathes, how they're even more obvious when mikey's lifting something, or stretching with his arms over his head...

he wonders if mikey can feel the subtle tremor in his hands.

"harder is good."

ray just nods, since he's pretty incapable of speech at the moment. he presses harder, leaning more weight into every touch, watching mikey's chest rise and fall. his eyes never leave ray for a second, and if he's intent on hypnotizing him, it's working.

mikey takes ray's hand and brings it up to his cheek, leaning into his touch. "your hands are warm."

ray knows he has to be imagining the darkness in mikey's gaze, the way he's looking at him like he wants to pull him closer.

"can i touch you?"

he nods quickly, like he'd been waiting to hear it this whole time. ray slowly slides his free hand downwards, feeling his muscle and bone under his palm. mikey's breath hitches when his hand brushes over a bruise, then back up to ghost along his collarbone.

his skin is so soft, warm and still slightly damp from the bath, just barely tinted pink.

he makes a daring move and cups his face in his hands, watching mikey's mouth part slightly, almost like an invitation. he's suddenly breathing shallowly, looking up at ray with dark eyes and cheeks quickly flushing.

ray doesn't even think before he's closing the distance between them, pressing his lips to mikey's.

he doesn't pull away.

he doesn't push ray off of him, break the kiss, ask him what the hell he's doing - none of the scary things ray had convinced himself would happen. no, instead he pulls ray deeper, kissing him hard and sighing like he's finally felt relief.

it's better than anything ray's felt in his life, and he doesn't ever want to let go. he wants to hold him and kiss him until he's breathless, running his fingers through his hair like he's _always_ wanted to.

he comes to his senses and pulls away, looking down at mikey; he's blushing beet red and looks even more surprised than ray.

"i-i'm sorry," he says quickly, suddenly realizing what it is he just did.

ray stands up, grabbing his bag from the table and zipping it up.

"wait- ray, please-"

"no, i... i've gotta go, i'm sorry," he lies. he feels like all he does is lie.

he feels tears welling up in his eyes - and what for? why does this always get to him so badly? he can't even look at mikey as he heads for the door.

"i'm sorry, mikes."

* * * * * * *

ray doesn't cry very often.

he feels hurt, anger, sadness, other emotions that might cause him to, but he very rarely cries.

even rarer than that, does he slump against the inside of his bedroom door, shaking, feeling like he's made the worst mistake of his life.

mikey's his best friend. he always has been, for years; he's always been here for ray, always listened and confided in him, told him things he'd never tell his own brother. just a few seconds of selfishness had undone all of that.

ray doesn't know when he started sobbing, but it's all too much. thinking he'd lost mikey, getting him back despite all odds, and now probably having to lose him as a friend.

he muffles his crying when he hears someone knocking at his door.

"ray?"

it's gerard.

"you okay, man?" he asks through the door, "linds said you ran off."

"y-yeah." _fuck, he needs to steady his voice._ "yeah. i just forgot something."

gerard goes silent, but he can feel him still standing on the other side of the door.

"hey... i know it was a lot for you," he says, just loud enough for ray to hear, "you can talk to me if you need to."

"yeah, i'm sure you're not mad."

"i'm not. really."

ray calls bullshit on that. gerard's never been happy when someone from camp runs off without notice, let alone the head medic. "what if you needed me at camp? someone could've died."

 _"mikey_ could've died," gerard counters, audibly getting annoyed at ray's persistence on the matter.

"it was selfish, and thoughtless-"

"selfish? you were trying to help."

ray wipes at his eyes, frustrated. "selfish because i can't... can't think about losing him."

gerard goes quiet again, sighing. it's a painfully long moment before he speaks again.

"mikey's already getting antsy. we're gonna let him try crutches soon, and i suggest you help him."

"why?"

"because you're the head medic, and because i said you should."

ray bites back anything else he wants to argue. he knows he'll just dig himself into a hole he can't get out of, and gerard will order him to do it regardless.

"okay."

* * * * * * *

ray's never actively avoided mikey before, but he does for the next week or so.

he checks in with lynz instead, asking about his dressings and whether they need to be changed or cleaned, but she insists she can do that. lynz's always been a good friend, and she knows he has a different workload to take care of.

it makes a good excuse, for mikey to hear he's tending to other people in the meantime... but ray feels a sense of failure. he's a coward. he can't even face mikey after what happened, and he probably feels like ray's abandoning him.

stuck between a rock, a hard place, and another rock.

_"hey."_

ray snaps out of his thoughts, looking up at the person in the medical tent. it's gerard, and he's holding a pair of axillary crutches.

"wanna help me get mikey moving again?"

ray nods quickly, feeling another stab of anxiety as he leaves the tent with gerard. he wants to see him again, and he knows that's probably a one-way feeling. it makes it all that much worse.

he tries not to look up as he enters the tent with gerard, but his curiosity gets the better of him. mikey looks better. not great; he's still bruised to hell and back, but he looks like he's got more life in him.

"look who i brought with me," gerard says, a smile in his voice, "he's gonna help you get used to these."

_"awesome."_

ray almost laughs at the stinging sarcasm in mikey's tone. he's never liked to feel incapacitated or incapable of anything, and ray's sure the crutches aren't helping his ego very much.

gerard doesn't waste time and pulls mikey to his feet, leaving ray to hold him steady while he gets the crutches under his arms. he leans into him for a minute, trying to get accustomed to the feeling of them.

ray gently lets go when he's certain mikey can stand on his own. "there, see? easy."

"try moving a little. both at the same time, then one leg."

mikey follows gerard's instructions and takes a few faltering steps across the room. he's not the most patient person, so ray's prepared to catch him if he gets ahead of himself.

"you'll be back to scavenging in no time."

"maybe i can come with?" ray asks, "i'd like to see ghoul, or whatever his name is."

gerard nods, before leaving the tent to continue his morning tasks. 

mikey straightens himself up, leaning into his crutches again. ray encourages it, stepping back and allowing mikey to walk towards him. he does it a couple times, struggling to turn around and walk back, but he seems to be learning fast once he gets the hang of it.

"you're doing great, mikes."

no response, but ray figures it's more than he could hope for, after yesterday. he tries not to think about it, because thinking about it could bring tears and right now he's just here to help. mikey's moving quickly again, more confidently, before taking a wrong step and stumbling near the table.

 _"whoa, sweetheart-"_ he quickly moves to catch mikey before he falls. 

fucking hell, he hopes that last bit was quiet enough that mikey didn't hear it. he helps him back up, letting him hold onto his shoulders tightly for a moment. ray figures he's worn himself out, or he wants to stop practice, so he walks him over to the bed and sits him down carefully. he doesn't let go, though; he keeps clinging to ray, his face hidden in his shoulder.

"mikes, it's okay..." he says softly, "you're doing great, i promise."

"'s not that," he murmurs.

"what's wrong, then?" he asks, gently petting mikey's hair. he stays quiet for a minute, just breathing against him. part of ray wonders if he's breathing in his scent.

"why were you avoiding me?"

the question comes out of nowhere, but ray knew he'd ask it eventually. mikey's not dumb - he knows when he's being sidelined.

"figured you'd be upset," he admits, feeling something like shame come over him again, "mad or something-"

"i'm not mad at you," mikey says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world, "i was never mad at you."

ray doesn't know what else mikey would feel. finding out your best friend's been hiding feelings for you, right after you're almost killed, no less? ray doesn't see a way back from that.

"y'know, there's this guy who's always taking care of me," mikey says quietly, "he's really kind, and strong, and willing to risk his life for me... and when he's not doing that, he's patching me up, teaching me things, making sure i'm safe and cared for." he looks up at ray, his expression miserable. "you know that guy?"

ray's not sure if he should speak - he's not sure if he even can.

"i don't ever want him to think he's not good enough for me," he says, turning so that he's facing him, and then he's so close it makes ray's heart flutter, "want him to know he can just say the word, and i'll kiss him again."

there's barely a few inches of space between their faces, and ray can feel his shallow breaths on his skin.

"please?"

mikey leans in, pressing his mouth to ray's in the softest kiss he's ever felt. he lets mikey reach up and cup his jaw, bringing him closer still, his warm lips never parting from his.

ray's mind is on another planet, and the kiss seems to last forever, but at the same time it's over way too soon. ray lets out a shaky breath, his eyes fixed on mikey; his face, his eyes, the gentle tinge of pink in his cheeks. this must be what people mean when they say they feel _"at peace"._

"it's me?"

"it's always been you."


End file.
